


Erratum

by bloodsongs



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Breathplay, Dark!Merlin, Dissociative Identity Disorder (implied), M/M, Slight D/s Dynamics, sub!Arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-11
Updated: 2013-04-11
Packaged: 2017-12-08 04:26:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/757028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodsongs/pseuds/bloodsongs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He loved him still, but Arthur had had no idea what he was getting himself into that first time Merlin’s eyes flashed when they were behind closed doors, when someone who was but wasn't Merlin had shoved him against the wall and murmured dangerously into his ear, “I don’t know who you think Merlin is, but he’s a small part of something bigger, much bigger, and I won’t let you interfere with us. You think he’s yours? You think he belongs to you? He belongs to me, he knows it, and that’s how it always will be.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Erratum

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts), [wawrthur](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wawrthur/gifts).



> I've been with someone who suffered from DID. This is a bit of a study on how a relationship between Merlin and Arthur might've gone if Merlin's magic consumed him and manifested like an entirely different, hostile personality, _Emrys_ , that embraced and was possessive of Merlin but rejected Arthur and their joined destinies, believing that Arthur was unnecessary to unite all of Albion.
> 
> The title comes from Arthur wondering, regretfully, if perhaps loving Merlin was a mistake.

Arthur struggles to breathe as Merlin presses him down, hands tightening a fraction around his neck, slipping under the collar he'd conjured and grasping hard enough to leave bruises. No one expects that kind of wiry strength from Merlin, the way he overpowers others with a deft twist of his arm or the bright gold of his eyes when his magic flares, out of his control.

It hurts.

Merlin tuts, straddling him, one of his hands pulling at the chain on Arthur’s collar, forcing him to move. “I do like it when you resist me,” he says, voice unrecognisable, all dark and sultry. Arthur hates it when this happens, when this side of Merlin surfaces, so different and far removed from the Merlin he knows; his Merlin, sweet and shy Merlin, who stammered if Arthur so much as smirked at him a second too long.

He loved him still, but Arthur had had no idea what he was getting himself into that first time Merlin’s eyes flashed when they were behind closed doors, when someone who was but wasn't Merlin had shoved him against the wall and murmured dangerously into his ear, “I don’t know who you think Merlin is, but he’s a small part of something bigger, much bigger, and I won’t let you interfere with us. You think he’s yours? You think he belongs to you? He belongs to me, he knows it, and that’s how it always will be.” 

He’d curled his fingers in Arthur’s hair, pulling harshly, not at all like the gentle whisper of Merlin’s kisses when they’d both bashfully confessed their affection for one another. Arthur had hissed in pain, and Merlin, or whoever this strange and hostile presence was had bitten his neck in reprimand, licked up Arthur’s neck. “Fancy that, Prince Arthur,” he had drawled. “Seems you like being dominated, do you?” 

Arthur tried to shake his head, but there was no denying how mortifyingly aroused he felt with this, this stranger manhandling him, treating him like a toy. It wasn’t Merlin, he told himself desperately then, fear threading through him. It wasn’t— it was as though Merlin was a completely different person, as if—

Merlin, no, Emrys brings Arthur back to the present with a sharp tug to his earlobe, painful enough to sting, but there’s pleasure in the twist of his skin between those lips, those teeth. Palming Arthur’s cock through his breeches with intent, other hand still tight around the collar, Merlin leans in, impossibly warm against him, his face shrouded in shadows. 

“I’ll teach you to mess with me, for thinking you can just come in and take my pet from me. You’re not his knight,” Emrys says, nudging Arthur’s thighs apart with his knee, sliding down Arthur’s body. It both repulses and thrills him, the way Emrys takes what he wants, and how Merlin is probably watching from behind those golden eyes, terrified for Arthur but trapped, always trapped, because Emrys is stronger. “You’re not. You’re my little whore, Arthur, my toy, and I’m going to fuck you while he watches. He can’t do anything. You can’t do anything."

Arthur closes his eyes, shutting out the world, shutting out his words, but they mock him.

"As long as I have this power, Arthur Pendragon, you are at my mercy.”


End file.
